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letra de street cat - zaytoven

[intro]
ayy (ayy)
smokin’ on that satellite (man, f-ck these hoes)
yeah, because it smoke right (ffff-beeep)
i’ve done been to the jail, i ain’t tryna go twice (beep)
you crazy on the internet, then why you actin’ so nice? (beep)
i got all this f-ckin’ ice (beep), i can have a snow fight (beep)
droptop down went to ‘deem (beep), and of course, he overlight
(i’m a street n-gga, dog, hoes love my style)
n-ggas white bricks day but i see f-ckin’ cold rice (beep)
(i’m a street n-gga, dog, hoes love my sty-)
ayy, ayy

[verse]
i’m a street n-gga, dog, hoes love my style
i should wrap the lamborghini black and white like a cow
what’s that sh-t up in my pocket n-gga it’s the .40 cal (bow)
they be seein’ a n-gga ballin’ n-gga herе they come to foul
baby momma keep on callin’ she likе, “get your f-ckin’ child”
i’m street n-gga, n-gga, i keep pistols tucked around
he was talkin’ crazy, they like “nah, he was f-ckin’ around”
i got folks here in with me and i’ll make em’ buck you down
i’m street n-gga p-ssy, i ain’t fakin’ for the clout
i got cash but my crazy cousin’ll take you for some pound
and i shoot crowds p-ssy, we’d shank ‘ya for some thou’s
i got blue faces, thottianas, make ’em buss it down
i’m a street n-gga p-ssy, i ain’t payin’ a hoe sh-t
they got cash apps on deck, i ain’t sendin’ hoes sh-t
he a peon ass n-gga, he done sent his ho a d-ck
at his dream girl house with gang in that hoe sh-t
i’m a street n-gga, dog, everybody know that
so a hater, get whacked, bond money on deck
when i got my first gun, i’m like, “i gotta blow that”
i should go back to dough runners and sellin’ dope sacks
i’m street n-gga, n-gga, i ain’t gotta prove that
oh, you tryna prove a point? well, why you gotta do that?
i should go to foster dealers and go buy the school back
i’m street n-gga, n-gga, that was where my school at
i’m street n-gga, n-gga, can you understand me?
you don’t speak engli’? how you say, “rubberband me”?
smokin’ on this stinky pack, flame up the gangrene
sosa what the opps on? n-gga, not a d-mn thing
i’m a street n-gga, dog, i don’t love no b-tch
i ain’t talkin’ to that b-tch unless she buy her own sh-t
unless she skrt, skrt, skrt-skrtin’ and riding in her own sh-t
b-tch steady buyin’ me sh-t, i can buy my own sh-t
i’m street n-gga, dog, i was jumpin’ off the porch
i had sprained my f-ckin’ ankle doin’ jumpin’ as a sport
stealin’ granny sh-t, now i’m takin’ nothin’ less a sport
we ain’t talkin’ to these n-ggas they ain’t nothin’ past a dork
i’m a doggy n-gga, baby, i know you love my fit
i ain’t got no b-tch, n-gga, how you f-ck my b-tch?
young street n-gga, dog, two revolvers and a stick
don’t let folks ‘nem hold it, they’ll steal ya f-ckin’ sh-t, ayy (bang)

- zaytoven

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